


Hidden in the Forest's Mist

by TheGoldenGirl



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Trust, Walks In The Woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28961313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoldenGirl/pseuds/TheGoldenGirl
Summary: Far away from prying eyes, Mikuni sees more of his Servamp than ever before.
Relationships: Arisuin Mikuni & Jeje | Doubt Doubt, Arisuin Mikuni/Jeje | Doubt Doubt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Hidden in the Forest's Mist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kahori_Katsushika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahori_Katsushika/gifts).



> If you want some beautiful soulful art to go along with this story, look no farther than [here](https://hisakata-resutomoshibi.tumblr.com/post/641147355792654336/a-little-story) where you will find some beautiful art by the amazingly talented kahori_katsushika, who this fanfiction is for because she's the best.

There is something Mikuni wants to ask. He has been trying to muster up the courage for hours now because, if he is being honest with himself, he is not sure whether he’s allowed to. Whether he’d cross a line, destroy something he treasures. 

It is unusual for his quick tongue to be this slow and useless. He does not like it one bit. So he keeps talking, rambling on about this and that, filling the forest they are wandering in with a flood of words that have no meaning but to drown out the unbearable silence. 

Jeje makes no move to stop him. There’s a tiny, annoyed twitch around where Mikuni can make out his lips, but it has to be there or it would not be Jeje. 

It’s nice to walk with him in daylight for once, even if it is tinted green from the early summer foliage above their heads, and muted by the fog that lingers in the forest no matter how hard the sun’s rays try to chase it away. This feeble protection must be enough for Jeje to leave his snake form, because that is precisely what he did a few minutes after they first entered the forest, offering no further comment but a quiet “are you coming?” when Mikuni stopped and stared. 

He has never really seen Jeje in a place like this. They are city-dwellers, the two of them, travelling the world’s capitals and cultural hotspots in search of knowledge and nice artifacts to sell. The places they see are loud and full at all hours of the day and night, there is rarely a moment in which they are truly alone save for when they close the hotel room's door behind them, and even then their freedom is restricted to a few square meters they both share. 

Jeje has never liked this a lot. He prefers to avoid being seen, Mikuni is well aware of that. In a big city that never sleeps, always watches, his Servamp can never truly feel at ease. 

Maybe this is why they should have done this a long time ago, taking a stroll through a place as lonely and empty as this fog-filled forest, one that hides them from sight and wraps them in a layer of silence. Jeje walks with a new sense of confidence amidst the dense trees, his steps a bit larger, his tensed shoulders relaxed for once, eager to be out and about as he has never been before. And Mikuni is left to keep up with him, to watch the swish of his long, black hair as it swings with every step, to listen to his soft, barely audible steps against the soft mossy ground and the little rustle of his coat against fallen leaves and little twigs amidst his own barrage of works. 

He wants to see more of this Jeje. Now that they are truly alone, the only sentient souls for miles and miles, it seems that bits and pieces start to show that he never knew to find in him, not even after years of being partners. Though still concealed with black robes and paper bags, he feels as close to him as he has not done in more than a decade, since the day he first discovered the vampire in the Alicein mansion's basement. 

“Have you finally run out of words?” Jeje asks. Startled, Mikuni realizes he has stopped talking as his train of thought took over. He is not even sure what it is he was rambling on about when he must have trailed off. 

“You wish,” He says. “I am only just getting started.”

“That's too bad,” Jeje replies. The annoyed twitch to his lips leaves for just one second, giving way to a smile that curls the corners of his mouth, and Mikuni is not quite sure how to handle this. 

“Let's take a break,” He proposes.

“Let's,” Jeje agrees, “walking and talking does tend to take your breath away.”

“Maybe it's you who takes my breath away,” Mikuni tells him, and counts his lucky stars that Jeje does nothing but snort, taking his slip-up as just another bad joke. 

They find a soft spot of moss that they decide is good enough for them. It feels damp, as everything in this forest does, and glitters with tiny beads of water, and is cool even through Mikuni's clothing as they sit down. He barely pays it any mind. He tries to pick up where he left, and fill the silence that is unbearable with how it beckons this question to slip past his lips, but it is hard without knowing what he was talking about in the first place. 

“Did you know,” He starts as he grabs his thermos from his backpack, desperately trying to avoid looking at Jeje, “that tea was originally made by pouring the milk into the cup first, so the heat wouldn't break the china cups they had back then?”

“I was alive when it was done this way,” Jeje reminds him. 

“Well then, did you know that…”

“Mikuni.”

He breaks off. Jeje's voice carries more volume than it usually does, and it lingers in the misty air between them for a few more seconds. 

But he doesn't seem displeased. It is hard to read him at times, with how he covers up and tries not to show, but all that radiates off him right now is a faint sense of curiosity. 

“If there is something you want to say,” Jeje tells him, “say it now.”

Mikuni grabs his thermos tighter. He does not heed the command immediately; it is unsettling to be seen through this easily. He has tried becoming someone mysterious in those past few years, someone hard to read, but of course he cannot fool someone who watched him erect his facade in the first place. 

“It's a question, actually,” He says. 

“Then go ahead and ask.”

He takes a deep breath. The air is cool and smells of dirt and tree bark. For a moment there is nothing but silence in the fog-filled forest, just the trill of a lonely bird, the crackling of faraway twigs. 

“If I asked you to show me your face, would you be very angry with me?”

Jeje lets the silence stretch a bit longer as he tries to come up with an answer himself. Mikuni cannot tell what he is feeling. Everything is so different from how it is supposed to be, and it is driving him mad. 

“No,” Jeje says. “I wouldn’t be. You are thoughtless and rude, but if you asked me now I’d be inclined to believe you waited until we are alone.” 

“How nice of you,” Mikuni says, his jest lost in the way his voice shakes with relief - for all the times he acts like his vampire's feelings don't matter to him it would have killed him to destroy this fragile bond of trust they share, to lose someone who, at one point, was his only real ally in life. 

“Would you show me, then, Jeje? Just between you and me?”

“No photos,” Jeje warns him, only half-joking. 

“Do I look like I have a phone on me right now?”

“I can never be sure with you.”

And then instead of bickering any more, Jeje lifts an arm, and grabs the bag that covers his face, and lifts it, just enough to look Mikuni in the eyes. 

He's beautiful. Which should not be as surprising as it feels, because Mikuni always knew he had to hide something enticing beneath that thing. And he may have fantasized about it, but he did not imagine cheeks this high and jawlines this sharp and eyes this dark and glittering, framed by strands of black that wisps of sun-drenched fog get tangled in. Jeje’s face is slender and pale and its otherworldly beauty looks so unfairly good on him. 

“Pretty,” Mikuni hears himself saying, and Jeje scoffs; his features twisting in a way that Mikuni adores, before he lets the paper bag drop down again. 

“Aw, what did I do wrong?” 

“Don’t say stupid things,” Jeje grumbles, but Mikuni cannot be fooled. Jeje, he has learned just now, is easy to read without his paper bag’s protection, and there was a faint hint of pink on his cheeks that speaks for itself. 

As they continue wandering, deeper inside the forest wrapped in white fog and thick silence, he holds his head high and his lips curled into a smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say except [look at my perfect wife's blog](https://hisakata-resutomoshibi.tumblr.com/)


End file.
